


The Search For The Weed Themed Dildo

by VeryFirstCream



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: "spot the gay flag" is a fun game to play in Amsterdam btw, Amsterdam, M/M, bisexual!everyone because bisexuality is great ayeee, essentially Amsterdam is just cheese+weed+sex, lots of flirting and teasing, more of a pre-brallon kind of thing, this is basically just Dallon dragging Brendon out of weed and sex stores, we're gonna ignore the architecturally beauty of Amsterdam for this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-05-30 14:47:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6428503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryFirstCream/pseuds/VeryFirstCream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Panic! At The Disco get to spend a night in Amsterdam before they have to head to the next location. While Spencer stays at the hotel, Dallon has to watch out for Brendon on the streets. That means making sure he doesn't get run over by a bike or a tram and doesn't spend all his money on weed and dildos. It's not an easy task for the bassist, especially since he's still a little embarrassed about what happened the night before in the dressing rooms. And Brendon constantly flirting with him doesn't really help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Search For The Weed Themed Dildo

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert: The weed themed dildo isn't actually a major plot point, I just loved it so much I had to use it as the title

"But we're in Amsterdaaaam!", Brendon whines loudly, as Dallon drags him out of the shop. The man behind the counter laughs at them, but Dallon couldn't care less about the opinion of that random stoner. With not much effort he pushes the protesting singer over the door step.  
"We're _not_ going to buy any weed today.", he tells Brendon sternly, to which Brendon pouts at him.  
"But...", he says, and due to a lack of reasonable arguments, he tries to win Dallon over with puppy eyes. Sometimes that actually works, because Dallon might be physically quite strong, but he's oh so weak when it comes to Brendon Urie being unnecessary and outrageously adorable. It's a bad habit that he's trying very hard to get rid of, especially after what happened the night before. Mistakes like that can be avoided, that Dallon is sure of, if he learns not to give in to Brendon that easily.

Dallon grabs Brendon's shoulders and forces him to look at him, "Brendon. When we got here, you said you wouldn't buy any weed in Amsterdam as a sign of solidarity to Spencer and his drug withdrawal, remember?"  
"But that was before I saw that they literally have stores for it here!"  
Brendon frantically gestures to the sign on the stores door which gives a detailed description of what kind of weed has which effect on you. Then he makes another attempt to get past Dallon and back into the store basketballer-style, but having a not inconsiderable height advantage, it is no real task for Dallon to stop him. After a moment or two of failed attack attempts on his bassist, Brendon eventually gives up. He looks so sad that Dallon somehow feels the need to console him.  
"Listen, you've already bought weed themed slippers, a set of weed themed tableware, weed jewelry and you made me try your weed flavored ice cream, which, I can't say this often enough, tasted disgusting by the way. I don't think you need actual weed."  
"Don't forget the weed flavored condoms that I bought.", Brendon, unfortunately, reminds him with a proud grin. Dallon didn't actually forget those, he just suppressed the memory, locking it in one of those dark corners of his brain that's usually reserved for dick pics people send him on snapchat, and hoping they won't come out at night and haunt his dreams.

"You will never find a girl that will let you fuck her with a _weed flavored condom_ on.", although he's not entirely convinced of that himself. Brendon is just pissing him off today somehow, or maybe Dallon is just a little moody today, but he really wishes Brendon could stop making such a big deal out of the Dutch way of handling drugs. Oh and he also really wishes Brendon wouldn't step that close to him right know, as if he had a secret to whisper in his ear, because it is really making him nervous.

"Maybe I don't wanna fuck a girl while wearing a weed flavored condom.", Brendon tells him, all while playing with Dallon's shirt collar in a way that Dallon, if he's still following his new guide-line of not giving into Brendon, really shouldn't like. The cheeky smirk that Brendon gives him is even worse, and really, with such an obvious suggestiveness, Dallon shouldn't be surprised by what Brendon says next.

" _Maybe_ I wanna _be fucked_ by someone who wears one."

Dallon feels betrayed by his heart, or maybe his dick, he's not quite sure what is responsible for the nervousness he feels right now, so he decides to hate both of them. But this time he won't give in to them. In the most sarcastic and annoyed voice he can manage to conjure up at the idea of fucking Brendon Urie he says: "And I'm guessing that someone is me, hu?"

"Obviously."

"Disgusting."

Brendon's expression doesn't change as he wraps his arms around Dallon's neck, and Dallon's doesn't change either, or so he hopes, because his putting a lot of effort in it.

"What, weed flavored condoms, or fucking me?", Brendon asks and winks at him.

To be honest, Dallon would gladly use condoms that smell and taste like Brussel sprout salad with shampoo as dressing if it meant fucking Brendon, but he knows Brendon is only messing with him. That's the way it has been since he joint the band: Brendon always teasing him, flirting with him for fun, not realizing what it does to Dallon. He knows Brendon isn't serious, because he's never been, and anyway he has a girlfriend, and last night was just an accident and it didn't mean a thing.

"Both.", he decides to answer, and _almost_ regrets it immediately. It only happened for like a second, but Dallon is sure he saw an expression of hurt on Brendon's face. He tries not to feel sorry, because it was all a joke, right? Why would Brendon be hurt by that, after all he's the one that's been making fun of Dallon for months by pretending to flirt with him, which led Dallon to snap and give in to his longing last night. But he promised himself to forget about that one slip up - pushing it in the same corner of his mind the weed condoms and dick pics are in and not thinking about it ever again - so he needs to find a distraction as soon as possible. He points at the first shop that catches his eye and exclaims: "Look! Cheese!"

To be honest, there's probably like an 79% chance, that when you close your eyes in any street in Amsterdam, point in a random direction and then open your eyes again, your finger is pointing at a cheese store. There are a lot of cheese stores in Amsterdam (AN: All figures in this story are fictional. There are, however, strongly based on the authors personal experience in Amsterdam. There _are_ a lot of cheese stores in Amsterdam). Said cheese stores kindly offer everyone who comes into the store a selection of little bits of cheese to try out, a nice gesture to help the costumers with their search for the perfect cheese. Dallon and Brendon have, since they first discovered one of those stores, usually just walked into the store, tried every brand of cheese and then walked out again, because they could.

Just as Dallon picks up a small piece of "lavender cheese" - he tried that before in another store (they're all the same), but has tried too many brands to remember that he does in fact not like this particular one at all because it tastes exactly like bath water - he notices that Brendon is just wandering around the store, not giving the cheese any more attention than the occasional disgruntled look here and there.

"Are you not gonna try anything?"

Brendon shrugs. "We already went into like 8 cheese stores in the last hour, so..."

"It's amazing how many cheese stores they have here, right?" Dallon chuckles, ignoring Brendon's sudden sulky attitude. "We could just skip dinner and live off small bits of free cheese tonight."

"I don't wanna skip dinner."

"I thought so. I was just kid-"

"I want to go to, I don't know, like a fancy restaurant with view on one of those canals with the pretty bridges and have like a romantic kind of dinner", he says, quietly and quickly, and without looking at Dallon a single time.

Dallon forces himself to make a small pause and think about whether he should really say what he's about to say. He comes to the conclusion that _someone_ has to say it eventually.  
"That's so... _cheesy_."

Brendon slaps Dallon's arm, but he laughs. They leave the store without Dallon doesn't noticing how Brendon bites his lip and frowns in frustration. The "romantic kind of dinner" doesn't come up in their conversation anymore.

 

The streets of Amsterdam aren't any more crowded that the streets of any other city of it's size, maybe even less since they have the canals as additional pathways, but in Dallon's opinion it is still pretty dangerous to try and cross a street there. Cars aren't really the problem: It's the bicycles, the motor bikes, the trams, the confused tourists, and all the chaos they cause, that make Dallon wish Brendon wouldn't be so reckless all the time, because it's causing him a minor heart attack every time he sees Brendon running over a street, somehow finding just the right time frame where no bikes and trams are there to knock him down. It's just luck though, and that is generally known for not being very consistent. Usually the two of them always manage to avoid the vehicles by just running really fast and in hysterical panic that converts into hysterical laughing as soon as they reach the other side and notice that they're still alive.  
At some point though, Dallon had to grab Brendon's shoulders and yank him back to the sidewalk since he was about to walk right in front of a tram. Technically, Dallon saved Brendon's live then, and there should have been dramatic music playing in the background as Brendon turned around and looked at Dallon with wide, unbelieving eyes, saying: "You saved my life!", in a breathy whisper and then Dallon would maybe say: "You'd do the same for me." and instead of an answer Brendon would just pull Dallon in for a kiss while the music in the background becomes louder and it would have been so fucking romantic but yeah that didn't happen, obviously.

 _But_ , there was this one time when they were walking through a considerably narrow street and they saw this guy on a motorbike getting closer to them while slaloming around other passengers, and Brendon seemed to deem it a good idea to grab onto Dallon's arm and steer the both of them to one side, so they would not be torn apart to two different sides when the biker reached them. Since then, Brendon hasn't let go of Dallon's arm.

While they are walking through a particularly crowded part of the city, which mainly contains bars and restaurants, Brendon, still with one arm hooked into Dallon's, proposes a game idea:  
"Hey, let's play "spot the gay flag". Whoever sees a gay flag first gets a point and whoever has most points at the end of the night wins."  
He points at the two giant rainbow flags hanging over a building that could not be more obvious about being a gay bar. "Gay. Double gay. Two points for me, zero for you."  
"I already saw like four gay flags.", Dallon protests.  
"Yeah, those don't count obviously, because we weren't playing back then."  
"Well, okay. Doesn't matter anyway, I'll win either way."

After about an hour - it's slowly getting cooler as the sun starts setting - the score is 5 to 1 for Brendon. He has been putting a lot of enthusiasm into the game since the moment he proposed the prize for the winner to be a blow job and Dallon laughed at him but didn't say no. Brendon might have slightly loosened the rules just one tiny bit then, but to be honest, it's Dallon's fault for just going along with it. He really should have protested when Brendon claimed that sign in a tourist shop that said "50% on all weed themed caps" in that generic rainbow Microsoft PowerPoint rainbow font counted as a gay pride flag, but maybe Dallon just really wants to suck Brendon's dick.

That might not be that far from the truth, actually. 

While they are aimlessly walking through the city, Dallon can't help but think back to what happened last night after their show. He tries not to, God, he tried everything in his might to just forget about yesterday and get on with it, but it's impossible. People often get a song stuck in their head and then they just can't seem to get rid of it. Dallon's song is composed of all the little gasps, moans and soft whimpers that erupted from Brendon's mouth when Dallon pushed him against the wall of the dressing room, hands grabbing Brendon's shoulders hard, so he couldn't escape when Dallon hungrily attacked his lips and his neck and oh my God, it was all Dallon had wanted to do since the first time he went on stage with Brendon, but it felt better than he had imagined it. And it's not like he hardly ever imagines it. No, he's been thinking about it for so long now, and it's been getting worse and worse, with Brendon making sure the "stage gay", how the fans call it, reaches a whole new level every new show they do. He would always tease him on stage, sometimes even kiss him or grind against him and every time it would end with him giving Dallon a friendly slap on the back, maybe congratulating him for the good show, and then everything would turn back to normal. And Dallon would be left there, his body aching with want and when Dallon got the chance he would jerk off afterwards but ever so often he didn't. 

Yesterday was different. He tried not to make a big deal out of it. It had just been to much to take and he just couldn't deal with it anymore and Brendon was _there_ , and he looked fucking hot with his hair a mess after the show and half of his sweaty stage outfit already having been disposed of. So what, Dallon snapped, so what, Brendon didn't do anything against it, so what, they made out heavily for a long time and it was fucking great. It was the adrenaline. Same adrenaline that drove them to do those kind of things on stage, only that there was nobody to watch this time, but it was still just the adrenaline. They both just needed to let off some steam, they just needed someone to touch and kiss and grind against, and conveniently, they had each other. For Brendon, it could have been anyone, if Dallon wasn't coincidentally the first one in reach. 

It didn't mean anything, that's what Dallon is certain of. Brendon has a girlfriend somewhere back in the States. Dallon met her and she's a kind and beautiful women and perfect for Brendon. He wouldn't want Brendon to cheat on her and although Brendon could be an ass sometimes, Dallon knew that he would never do that anyway. Yesterday was just a slip up, and his fault.

He hates himself for losing control like that. It made everything worse. Before, he was just fantasizing about something that he didn't have and that he thought he could never have, and that was fun, but it was alright because people did that all the time. But now he knows what Brendon's lips taste like and how it feels to have him pressed against Dallon's chest, and now it's not fantasizing anymore, it's longing for another dose because this one mistake might have sparked up an addiction in him.

Dallon tries to distract himself by examining his surroundings again, and just as he thinks he laid eyes on something pretty interesting – a giant church in the middle of a big square – something else catches his attention.

"Gay, gay, gay, _quadruple gay_!", he shouts, before Brendon has the chance to notice the four giant rainbow flag decorating a, by comparison, small both standing on the cobblestone pavement. Some people turn their heads to look at them, but Dallon doesn't care, the score is 5-5 now, so they are head on head, which, if you think about it, should lead to a 69.

"Damn it!", Brendon exclaims. "What is that thing anyway?"  
They walk a little closer to the small booth until they can read the sign on it, although, with all those rainbow flag, they really should not have had to do that.  
"Gay information point", Dallon reads aloud, to which Brendon responds by shoving his shoulder and yelling excitedly: "Oh my God do you think they give like actual infos on how to be gay? Like how does gay sex work and stuff?"  
"Uhm... I'm pretty sure they're just telling the tourists where the gay bars are at."  
"Mno, they definitively teach people how to sex. Let's check it out!"  
Ignoring Dallon's protest, Brendon takes his hand to pull him with him to the booth, until Dallon says: "Listen, I am _very_ well aware of how to have gay sex, so we don't need to check it out!"  
That makes Brendon stop in his tracks immediately. He turns around, still holding Dallon's hand, and cocks an eyebrow at him.

"You're _very_ well aware of how to have gay sex, hu? So would you... call yourself an expert?" A cocky smirk on his lips, he moves closer to Dallon until their faces are only inches apart. _He's doing that on purpose_ , Dallon thinks, when his field of view is almost entirely taken in by Brendon's face, and he can feel the other man's breath on his lips, _because he knows what it does to me._  
But Dallon is done with letting Brendon Urie manipulate him with his smirk and making him weak, so he looks him straight into the eyes an whispers: "Hell yeah, I would."  
"Dude, you're just a poster boy for a slutty bisexual.", Brendon tells him with a small laugh, giving him a friendly slap on the chest.  
"I thought you were already doing that job?", he countered.  
Brendon winks at him. "Oh you're wrong there, Dal-o, I only thirst for but one person at the moment."  
Dallon doesn't bother asking who.

A few minutes later, after they checked out the gay info booth which was in fact just an info point where you could get the addresses of the nearest gay bars and such, Brendon suddenly says: "Let's find the red light district!"  
Dallon tries not to groan to loud, in order not to make his annoyance too obvious. The sun had almost completely set now, and Dallon's hopes of getting out of Amsterdam without having to go through the red light district were quite high up to this moment. But then again, he was here with Brendon, so he shouldn't have had any hopes to begin with.

They probably could have bought a map at the gay info point, but Brendon was too busy teasing Dallon about his _sluttyness_ , so now there are just walking though random streets, hoping to magically find the red light district. They could ask for the way, of course, but the idea just feels a little awkward. It doesn't take them long until they find a hint that they are heading in the right direction though.

 

While Dallon is still admiring yet another giant cheese store, wondering whether he should buy that lavender cheese after all and try to use it as a bath bomb, Brendon suddenly starts laughing behind him. When he turns around, Brendon is still laughing and pointing at a shop window which displays what seems to be pink plush rabbits. Or... Wait.

Should stuffed toys for kids have giant, erect plush penises?

" _Big dick rabbit._ ", Brendon reads the sign on the window aloud, "What a fitting name."  
"You wanna buy one?", Dallon asks and promptly regrets it when Brendon smirks and says: "Nah I don't need one. I already have my own _big dick_. He points at his crotch area and has the audacity to wink at Dallon.

"C'mon then.", he says, gesturing to Brendon to walk along so they do no longer have to look at the vitrine full of pink, well-hung rabbits. Not that the next store they see is so much better...

"Oh my God!" Brendon calls out, although it's slightly muffled because of his face being pressed to a window. "Now, I definitively need one of those!"  
"Please don't make me go in there.", Dallon says, but it's already too late. Brendon has already entered the sex shop, and in fear that he might buy a basket full of luxury dildos, Dallon follows him. 

His fear is warranted. The store is not like any other sex store that Dallon has ever been in, since it is an _actual_ luxury sex shop. None of the dildos displayed on shelves on the wall, or decoratively hanging from the ceiling _or_ spinning on one of those rotating platforms they put cars on (only smaller), are made of plastic. Instead most of them are made of glass, with little diamonds adorning the roots – fake, Dallon hopes – and twisted into almost artistic forms. Of some of them, Dallon can imagine them to be pretty uncomfortable, but then again, they were probably made for vaginas and not his ass.

He finds Brendon in front of a golden gleaming dildo, checking the price tag. _Who'd pay that much for a dildo?_ , Dallon asks himself, not yet realizing that the answer is standing right in front of him.  
"I am not leaving Amsterdam without one of these!"; Brendon proclaims, with even more excitement than what he showed when they first found a weed store in the city.  
" _Brendon_ , as your friend, it is my duty to make sure you don't make horrible decisions, so I'm asking you: Do you _really_ need a luxury dildo?"  
Wrinkles appear in Brendon's giant forehead, as he thinks about it. He starts tapping against his chin with one finger, deeply in thought. Apparently it's quite a tough decision to make for him.

"No.", he finally says, greatly to Dallon's relief. But that relief isn't granted him for long.  
"I don't need a luxury dildo. What I _need_ , is a _weed themed_ dildo!"  
The silent "no" on Dallon's frozen in panic face goes unnoticed, when Brendon enthusiastically approaches a women who seems to be a member of the staff (identifiable by the lack of clothing) and asks: "Excuse me, do you sell weed themed dildos?"  
The women looks him up and down for a moment, maybe waiting for him to say that the question was meant as a joke, but eventually she answers: "No, I'm afraid we don't have... Weed themed dildos... in stock right now."  
"What a bummer."

Brendon returns to Dallon with a dissapointed look on his face, so Dallon tries to cheer him up as they walk back onto the street: "You know, if you put one of your disgusting weed condoms on a regular dildo it's basically a weed themed dildo."  
"You and me both know that it wouldn't be the same."  
"Yeah you're righ - _oh my God_!"  
Dallon takes a surprised step backwards and almost knocks over Brendon on the way, as he notices the woman smiling and waving at him from behind a display window. She seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but maybe that was just because Dallon had been distracted by Brendon and didn't really expect a half naked woman to suddenly appear and just casually dance in a vitrine right next to the sidewalk.

"I guess it can't be far then.", Brendon says, while waving back at the prostitute with a friendly smile, "The dildo shops and dancing women in underwear are a clear trace."

As expected, they see the red lights when they turn the next corner. On both sides of a beautiful canal are red illuminated houses, inhabiting prostitutes, sex shops and a handful of bars. Brendon and Dallon go to stand on a small bridge crossing the canal in order to have a better view. Despite establishments like the "erotic museum" and the "leather palace" being all over the place, the lights make it quite beautiful to look at. Romantic even.

"Oh my God, look!" Brendon elbows Dallon to get his attention and then points at the windows of one of the nearest buildings. Dallon squints, trying to find what Brendon is so excited about, until he suddenly sees it: A woman in one of the windows is dancing in fluorescent underwear.

"That is so cool! I need to buy that!", he exclaims to nobody's surprise, especially not Dallon's who has given up on stopping Brendon from buying every cool thing he sees by now.

"I'm sure they sell stuff like that somewhere here. You could get it as a gift for your girlfriend."

"My girlfriend?" For a moment there's an expression of confusion on Brendon's face.

"Yeah you kno-"

"Oh my _girlfriend_. Right. Uh, we broke up."

"What why? And when did that happen?"

Before Brendon can answer, Dallon recalls that he had definitively still been together with her when they left for the tour.

"Wait, you broke up with her via phone? Dude, that's not cool."

Brendon sighs. "I know. But I had to. I was too scared I'd do something even more _uncool_.

"Like what?"

"Like cheat on her."

"You were so sure you'd cheat on her _that you broke up_ with her?"

"Well I was right, wasn't I? If I was still with her, I would've cheated on her. Last night. With you."

Dallon draws in a sharp breath. "But that doesn't count. It was just adrenaline and stuff. Nothing different from what we do on stage."

"Was it?"

They look at each other for a long moment after Brendon asked the question. Somehow, something in Brendon's expression tells Dallon that he should say no, that he should tell Brendon how much he _really_ cares about him, and for how long he wanted what had happened last night to finally happen. It's this hopeful glimmer in his eyes probably, mixed with concern, or even fear that Dallon might say yes, yes it was just show, just stress relief or the adrenaline or whatever, while for the both of them it definitively was not.

" _Was it?_ ", Brendon asks again, this time with more emphasis, and more desperation.  
"No. No it wasn't. I just... I couldn't control myself anymore. I just wanted you so much." Scared of how he might react, Dallon quickly tears his eyes from Brendon's face. He's watching the reflections of red lights shimmering in the water of the canal when he here's Brendon chuckle and say: "Yeah I noticed that. Listen..." He reaches out with one hand to caress Dallon's cheek, then turns his face towards him, forcing Dallon to look at him as he says: "I want you too. I know you think I'm just messing with you, and I did do that for a while. But I'm serious now."

Dallon looks at him with wide eyes. "So about that romantic dinner you mentioned earlier..."

"I was serious about that too."

"You actually want to go on a date with me?"

"I think we should at least try it out."

"Okay.", Dallon says with a wide smile growing on his face. Brendon is smiling too, bright enough to lighten up the bridge they're standing on, and letting everything else merge in the resulting darkness surrounding them.

Somehow they hands entwine and they both realize it is the perfect moment to kiss: They standing in the middle of a beautiful bridge, the red lights being reflected in the water and illuminating their faces, music playing in the background (admittedly, that music is a mixture of music coming from two different strip clubs and a bar, so it's not _that_ romantic). They _could_ kiss.

But there's something that needs to be done first. To Brendon's obvious disappointment Dallon pulls away, but he doesn't let go of Brendon's hand when he announces:  
"Let's find you that weed themed dildo!"  
"What why?", Brendon laughs. Dallon kisses him on the cheek and then proceeds to pull him to the nearest sex shop.  
"Because you deserve it!"

**Author's Note:**

> I just found out they have this gigantic condom store in Amsterdam and I hate myself for not having known about it and using it in the fic...  
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Feel free to write a fic about what happens if they do find that dildo because I kind of want to read that but I can't write smut ehe.


End file.
